


Family Attachments

by 530_and_some_fandoms



Series: those blind hours [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cori's just going through it, Family Feels, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hydra (Marvel), Interlude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28509948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/530_and_some_fandoms/pseuds/530_and_some_fandoms
Summary: At New Years, Cori finally finds the time to read the file Mr. Stark gave her.
Series: those blind hours [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835776





	Family Attachments

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE REGARDING I AM [REDACTED] AT THE END! PLEASE READ!

I could understand celebrating someone’s birthday. I could understand making that a giant holiday that apparently raked in a bunch of cash, if Friday was to be believed. I could understand the gift giving and the decorations and, according to Peter, the general happiness that surrounded the season, some of which I had felt myself. 

I could understand Christmas. 

What I did not understand was why people would wait around in the cold for hours to watch a ball drop in order to celebrate a New Year. What was significant about that? It was a ball. Balls dropped unless they were held or were put on some sort of surface. And that was only if we were being literal. I had dropped tons of balls in my life, both the literal and figurative kind, and no one paid that much attention unless it was a “someone important is dead and it's not the important person we meant'' or “you risked the whole operation” kind of ball. 

Because both of those had happened on several occasions. I could understand that sort of ball drop. 

I fear that everyone in this city may have gone insane while I made seven batches of snickerdoodles. Hydra knows I did. 

But today was also the first time I had gotten a bit of peace and quiet for nearly a week. Christmas was chaos before, during, and after apparently and I had only just sat down with the file Mr. Stark had given me. 

I looked down at it. The manilla folder was emblazoned with “For Cori’s Eyes Only” in black marker, but I didn’t doubt many people had looked at it before. It wasn’t like files on me were exactly a secret inside Hydra. Unless they were. Apparently Doctor Galley had been hiding me, and I was still confused on that matter. Why hide me? 

Whatever the reason, it was nice to hold all that was left of my family in my hands. The file was thinner than I expected for seven people; less than the width of my pinkie finger. There wasn’t even separation between the people. It was just all thrown into one folder. 

I sighed and opened the folder. 

The first page was me. There wasn’t much on it. 

_“Name: Corentine Lyndon Stewart_

_Date of Birth: May 7, 2004_

_Parents:_ _Damon Stewart_ _(Deceased 2004),_ _Isabeau Stewart_ _née Beaumont_ _(Deceased 2004)_

 _Siblings:_ _Kendra Ara Stewart_ _(Deceased 2013),_ _Tarin Piera Stewart_ _(Deceased 2007),_ _Adara Cadance Stewart_ _(Deceased 2011),_ _Maxim Peter Stewart_ _(Deceased 2016)_

_Mission Report_

_Experimentation_

_Abilities: Air control, enhanced metabolism, enhanced hearing, enhanced strength_

_Applications:_ _Inhibitor_ _located on nape of neck_

_Distinguishing features_ _”_

I flipped to the next page. It detailed all of the experimentation that I was still feeling the effects of. Mostly good. Some not so. I shuddered and continued until I passed that section. 

If there were similar sections for all of my siblings, I wouldn’t be reading them. I knew first hand what had happened. 

I continued to flip.

The inhibitor section was next. I skimmed over it until one phrase caught my attention. 

“ _Due to possessing more power than originally intended, HW05, HE32, HF23, HS98, and HT57 all received inhibitors to block powers beyond control,”_

I fingered the plate on my neck, cold despite being attached to my body. This thing inhibited, _obviously_. I knew that before. But how much? What could I do without it? Would there still be the fog in my vision every time I used my powers? What would change. 

But beyond the fact that I could wonder what would happen, I couldn't do much else. If I were to ever take it out, or tamper with it, a pulse would be sent through my body, killing me. The only way to take it out would be if I was already dead, and even then it would probably fry me to the point of no return. 

I moved on. 

There wasn’t much else in my section, so I flipped to the next. 

This section was on my father. His picture was paperclipped to the top of the front page, but I doubted it was one Hydra had taken. He was smiling, standing in a suit next to someone who was cut out of the picture, holding a certificate in his hand. 

He looked a lot like M. Same face with large features, same untameable hair, same tall and lanky build, same dark skin. 

If M had lived until adulthood, was that what he would look like? 

I shook my head, banishing those thoughts. No good would come from them. Instead I lifted the photo and looked at the writing underneath. 

_“Name: Damon Peter Stewart_

_Date of Birth: October 14th, 1976_

_Date of Death: May 7th, 2004_

_Place of Birth: London, UK_

_Parents: Carver Stewart, Shari Stewart_

_Spouse:_ _Isabeau Stewart_ _née Beaumont_ _(Deceased 2004)_

 _Children:_ _Kendra Ara Stewart_ _(Deceased 2013),_ _Tarin Piera Stewart_ _(Deceased 2007),_ _Adara Cadance Stewart_ _(Deceased 2011),_ _Maxim Peter Stewart_ _(Deceased 2016),_ _Corentine Lyndon Stewart_

_Early Life_

_Scientific Work_

_Achievements and Awards_ _”_

I found myself staring at the date of death. How old was I when he died? Minutes? Hours? It couldn’t have been any more time than that. Was I even born? Did he even see me? 

Did he hate me? I was one of the terrible outcomes of his time imprisoned at Hydra. And unlike me, he never got out. Did he even see the sun in 2004?

I bowed my head in thought. So many thoughts and questions and the only way they could be answered is if a dead man who had all rights to hate me was resurrected. He had been used. 

_“A young, genius scientist hell-bent on changing the world of biology, Damon Stewart’s genius and closeness with fellow scientist and spouse Isabeau Stewart was the reason he was picked for_ _Project Universe_.” The file said. 

He was picked. Selected. Used. It was all the same to me. 

The file did speak correctly about his genius however. The Scientific Work portion of the file had records of nearly 15 years of work filled with notions I could barely even understand. I would have to study some later, when I didn’t have the file weighing heavier than it should in my hands. 

I moved onto my mother’s section. 

_“Name: Isabeau Stewart_ _née Beaumont_

_Date of Birth: August 24th, 1977_

_Date of Death: May 7th, 2004_

_Place of Birth: Quimper, France_

_Parents: Olivier Beaumont (Deceased 2002), Rosemonde Beaumont_

_Siblings: F_ _élicienne Prouix née Beaumont, Stéphane Beaumont_

 _Spouse:_ _Damon Stewart_ _(Deceased 2004)_

 _Children:_ _Kendra Ara Stewart_ _(Deceased 2013),_ _Tarin Piera Stewart_ _(Deceased 2007),_ _Adara Cadance Stewart_ _(Deceased 2011),_ _Maxim Peter Stewart_ _(Deceased 2016),_ _Corentine Lyndon Stewart_

_Early Life_

_Scientific Work_

_Achievements and Awards_ _”_

What drew my eye about my mother’s file was the fact that I had a living grandparent, an aunt, and an uncle. I glanced back at my father’s file, and found I had not one, but three living grandparents. 

I smiled slightly. Maybe I had cousins too. 

I couldn't contact them though. That could be dangerous and Hydra know’s I’ve put this family through too much grief. 

So I moved on.

My mother’s work was slightly more deciferable than my father’s, but not for lack of complexity. Her work focused on genetics, which I had studied quite a bit in secret to actually understand what Hydra was doing to me. It was interesting, reading over the various overviews. 

I skimmed over my sibling’s files. There wasn’t much I didn’t already know. And I didn’t really want to bask in my own failures. 

After about an hour, I closed the file, staring at the black words on its front. “For Cori’s Eyes Only”. I scoffed. Mr. Stark had undoubtedly already seen it and if I wanted to show it to someone it wouldn't be for just my eyes anymore. Not that I was really planning on showing it to anyone. 

I had to hide it. There wasn’t anything really incriminating in it, but I couldn’t let anyone else see it. I just… I wouldn’t let that happen. I didn't even know why I felt that so strongly. 

Or maybe I did. Some kind of foriegn fondness I barely remembered feeling so long ago. An urge to protect. An attachment. 

There weren’t many good hiding spots on this floor. The room I had first stayed in was locked and the other two that weren’t my own were left unopened. They stayed clean by some _thing_ I tried to catch, but it always stayed just out of my sight (Friday always met my questions about it with almost laughs). Then there was my room. 

I could hide things well, even if there weren’t many good hiding spots, but in this case there weren’t any. 

I sighed and stood up, folder in hand as I trudged to my room. 

There wasn’t really anything to signify it was my room despite the clothes in the drawers and the fact that the bedsheets were slightly less neat than the bedsheets of the unoccupied rooms. The walls were blank and the room was clean. I glanced around and then up to the ceiling. 

I could try to store the file in the vent, but then what would I do if I ever needed it quickly? Putting it in any drawer was too much of a risk for people looking in and finding it on accident. Sliding it under the bed would be found easily and even if it wouldn’t, the file would quickly collect dust. The other furniture didn’t have legs, flat against the floor. 

Unfortunately, there was only one other place I could think to put the file unless I wanted to punch a hole in the wall and somehow cover that up: in between the mattress and the boxspring. And that was really, really stupid. I didn’t really have a choice if I wanted to hide it though. 

So I lifted the mattress, put the file down, and then let the mattress drop before sitting on the floor in front of the hiding spot. I felt better, even though I probably shouldn’t have. It was a terrible hiding spot. 

It felt really safe though. A place to put the last readable remnants of Hydra left. 

I shivered. The thought was traitorous. Then I remembered a gun pointed at my face and at Mr. Stark and the blank white that seemed to stay and stay and _stay._ All the hurting and killing, and for what, chaos? Or was it simply to hurt? If Hydra was so good, why did I feel safest kneeling behind a bed in the Tower owned by a supposed enemy?

Maybe traitorous thoughts weren’t so bad. 

It was a new year after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I would have posted sooner, but I watched Revolution of the Daleks earlier and Thasmin fanficiton called. Sorry, not sorry.  
> This is a little messy, but I generally enjoy it. Got some massive amounts of foreshadowing in here too hehe. 
> 
> Also, I have I Am [REDACTED] pre-written, but I was reading through it and realized it's a HOT MESS and needs to be completely rewritten, so I will be delaying the first chapter coming out until February 6th. Sorry for the extra wait, but it may or may not be my favorite installation to the trilogy thus far, and I want it to live up to what I have in my mind while also making sense.


End file.
